


One Night Stand

by suallenparker



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, IndecentProposal!Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2013-03-25
Packaged: 2017-12-06 11:15:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/735038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suallenparker/pseuds/suallenparker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Belle asks Mr Gold for a delay in rent for her father, Gold is willing to forgive all the debt for one night with Belle. But he never expected her to accept his proposal. IndecentProposal!Remix</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night Stand

**Author's Note:**

> During the write of Indecent Proposal I was wondering a lot about Belle's characterization. I like the rare moments on the show when she shows her sense of humor. With Rumple she is always so gentle and patient so I wanted to explore this side of her as well. Hence the Remix.   
> Thanks to foreveronelittlewish for her inspiring gifs!  
> This is for shadowsseeker. She encouraged me and so far I never have written anything for her and that needed to change. And this is for all of you. My very belated Fluffapalooza-story is finally here! I hope you enjoy!

Noah Gold couldn't afford to dream of things without price tags. And he certainly couldn't afford to fall in love with Belle French. But unfortunately, he had. Even worse, he loved her. He had fought it tooth and nail, but she had worn him down with her kindness, her wits and her sense of humor. Maybe he had fallen for her because she was his opposite in many ways. She had shown him patience and she disarmed him with her smile. She was the one truly good person he had ever met. And he loved her, desperately so. So much it hurt. When he was around her it felt like he just came out of the cold and she warmed him, turning him from numb to tingly and sore. Weak and vulnerable. Desperate and hopeless. Because she would never return his affections. He stood even less of a chance with her than that sixteen year old from the drugstore that couldn't keep his eyes from Belle.

But whenever she smiled at him or reached for his hand or soothed down the lapels of his suit, hope flared up inside him and with that hope, longing always came along. Longing for something more than riches. Longing for something Gold knew he couldn't have. So he decided to put a stop to it. All it brought him was pain. He preferred his numbness. Not loving anything was much more comfortable.

So he made his proposal, his disgusting proposal. But the slap to silence his hope wouldn't come.

Instead she nodded slowly. “I accept your conditions.”

“Are you sure, you understand what that means?” he asked. She must've misheard him.

“You'll forgive my father's debt if I spend one night with you.”

“In my bed,” he clarified, tilting his head and offering his right cheek to her.

“In your bed, yes,” she said like she was talking about meeting for a cup of tea. “I will stay with you tonight.”

His eyes widened. “Tonight?” 

She nodded again. “If that doesn't suit you I could stay with you on Saturday instead.”

“Tonight will be fine.”

“I'll be there at ten.”

“Brilliant,” he said coldly, grateful that his voice didn't gave him away. He swallowed hard, his hands turning to fists with sweaty palms. His heart raced. Tonight he would share a bed with Belle French. Fucking fantastic. He couldn't breathe. Why did she never act like he expected her to?

  
  


o0o

  
  


Acts of desperation came in all shapes and sizes.

He had made his proposal to break free from her. He had been crude to push her away and she hadn't even fought him because … Because why? Maybe she was tired of his games, maybe she had called his bluff. Or maybe she was just desperate for the money her father owed him. Gold knew she felt stuck in her father's shop but she wanted to save her father's legacy. With Moe's debt gone, she would be free to move on.

Maybe their motives weren't so different. 

The thing that irritated him was how easily she had given into his proposal. She hadn't even tried to argue with him. Usually when he was making an ass of himself she would reason with him, showing him other perspectives and gently guiding him to the insight that he was behaving like a jerk. It worried him that she didn't fight anymore. Like she had lost her strength. And he had taken advantage of her.

Quarter to ten Gold was still hoping that Belle wouldn't show up. That she would maybe call him tomorrow and tell him off, that she would react normal again. He didn't want her here, he didn't want her in his bed. Not like that. Knowing that she would come here, willing to sleep with him because he blackmailed her family, made him sick. The joke was, if she had slapped him, he would've granted the delay like she had suggested. He just had wanted that slap first.

At ten o'clock Belle French was standing in front of him, carrying a bright yellow bag. Her hair fell in light curls over her shoulders and she wore almost no makeup. A trench-coat left her bare legs exposed. Thanks to a pair of indigo high heels, she was almost as tall as him. She looked beautiful and calm and content and in control.

“I thought you wouldn't come,” he said.

She smiled. “And for a moment I thought you wouldn't open the door.”

He raised a brow. “Don't be ridiculous.”

“Will you let me in?”

“Yes, of course.” Gold nodded briefly then forced himself to step out of the doorway. He caught a wisp of Belle's scent when she walked past him. She smelled like oranges and fresh baked cookies.

How silly he was, he recognized. How ridiculously pathetic in his former arrogance. He had believed he was stronger than her, he had believed he held all the power but right now just her mere presence overwhelmed him. If he wouldn't pull himself together, he would beg her to take pity on him and stay before the night was over.

Belle placed the bag on the ground before she took her coat off and Gold almost stopped breathing when she revealed a silky, blue chemise that fell to the midst of her thighs. The chemise showed the perfect swell of Belle's breasts. Maybe this was his punishment. She was beautiful and he was losing his mind.

Gold cleared his throat. “I have books,” he said. “You love books.” 

“I do.”

“I could show you the books.” 

“That would be nice.” She smiled again. Why was she smiling?

“Now?” he offered hopefully. He felt stupid.

She gestured at her chemise. “I'm already dressed for bed.”

“I also have marshmallows,” he tried. “There's a fireplace in the library and we could roast marshmallows.” She had told him once that she loved marshmallows. Sure she would love to spent the night in a room full of books and with marshmallows. He could give her that. Then, _maybe_ , he would be able to look at himself tomorrow. 

She tilted her head, still smiling.

His palms started to sweat. “You love books and marshmallows,” he uttered. “We could spend the night with books and marshmallows.”

“I already brushed my teeth,” she said.

“No problem.” He took a breath. Seemed like she wanted to get things over with. Too bad he wasn't ready for that. “I bought you a toothbrush. It's yellow.” And it was sparkly. When he had paid for it, the cashier had looked at him like she suspected him to break out into a Cabaret song any second.

“I like yellow,” Belle said.

“I know.” Most of Belle's dresses were yellow, so one could figure. He might be a fool but he wasn't an idiot.

“Perhaps you should just leave,” he suggested. He loved her. He didn't want this. Any of this. He looked to the floor. “I will grant the delay.”

Her bended finger under his chin made him look up again. “Mr. Gold?” 

“Yes?”

“Lets go to bed.”

Damn her pride. He cleared his throat. He wanted to kiss her. “This is a terrible idea.” 

“It's your idea.”

He wanted to to give her better reasons to stay, to tell her he loved her but instead he said, “Not everything that comes out of my mouth is brilliant.”

“You don't say.” She ran a hand over his shoulder. “Now take me to bed.”

And he gave up. “My bedroom's upstairs.”

“Lead the way.” She smiled again. Like she was looking forward to this, like she wanted him. And like a child he wanted to play pretend and hold her in his arms all night, whispering words of love and adoration in her ear.

He swallowed hard before he started walking.

  
  


o0o

  
  


“You can take the left side of the bed,” he said after he returned from the bathroom, now dressed in pajamas. “I always sleep on the right one.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Gold,” she said. On her way to the bed, her fingertips graced his arm and he shivered. 

She took some time to make herself comfortable, shifting around and soothing over the blanket. She looked so beautiful. He wanted to slip in bed with her, he wanted to hold her close and breath her in and kiss her and love her and promise her everything she'd ask of him. He wanted her to stay.

Maybe he should sleep on the couch. Maybe he should just make up a work emergency and leave.

“I think I should call you Noah,” she said.

“Excuse me?”

“That's your first name, isn't it?”

“Yes.” It felt strange to hear somebody call him that after so many years.

She lifted her chin. “Since we'll be sharing a bed, I think I earned the right to call you by your first name.”

“Have it your way then.” He raised a brow. “Belle.”

She chuckled. “I intend to do so, Noah.”

He was doomed.

He knew this couldn't, this _wouldn't_ end well for him and yet he climbed into bed next to her and under the blanket. His leg graced against one of hers and suddenly it all felt too real. He shifted until he lay at the edge of the bed, stretched out with his arms crossed on his chest above the blanket, he tried to take up as little space of the bed as possible, so he wouldn't touch her accidently.

He looked at the ceiling and unable to bring himself to switch out the lamp on his night stand. It was the only light left and he wasn't sure he could manage to be alone with her in the dark without losing his mind completely.

“I don't pay for sex,” he said, hoping to make her angry. Because what woman likes to be called a prostitute, right? Maybe now she would do the smart thing and get the fuck out of his bed. 

“You're not paying for any of this,” she said. Of course she had to mock him now.

“I'm forgiving a 10,000, so technically I am.”

She rolled on her side and crocked her head up on her arm. “Why did you suggest the deal?”

“Because I'm a pervy, old bastard.”

“You haven't touched me yet and you're not old,” she said sternly and sat up, then she added with a smirk, “I have no knowledge of your family history so I can't argue the bastard part.”

He laughed roughly. First she made fun of him and now she defended him? This was insane. She must be insane. 

He flinched when she suddenly leaned over him and switched off the lamp on his nightstand. It was dark.

Giggling slightly, she grabbed his collar and pulled him further on the bed.

“You'll fall out,” she said and ran her hands over his chest. He could feel her breath on his skin and he wanted to grab her waist, pull her against him and kiss her. Instead he tensed up, his legs outstretched and his arms pressed alongside his body, hands clenched into fists. That was all he could do to keep himself from touching her. Unfortunately he still had no influence on her behavior.

She moved besides him, close enough so he could feel the warmth of her body radiating to him. His cock hardened and he pulled in a sharp breath. Her left hand remained on his chest just above his racing heart. He wondered if she would just wait for it to jump into her waiting palm. 

“I saw you with that kid last week,” she said after she was settled. Her palm pressed gently against his chest.

“What kid?” he asked eagerly. He needed something to draw some blood back to his brain.

“The six year old that puked on you?” 

He snorted. “No kid ever puked on me.”

“Oh, yes, that girl did.” Belle started to draw circles on his chest, making it difficult for him to follow her words. “She ran into you on your way to the pawnshop and she puked all over your fancy suit. She started crying and you told her it was okay because you didn't like that suit anyway and that she had great aim because she did spare your shoes, which you love. And then you gave her a mint while making her promise not to take candy from strangers.” 

He hadn't thought anybody had bared witness to that encounter. The girl had been so sweet and so embarrassed about her little mishap. And there were far worse things to have strawberry milkshake puke on his suit. He could hear the smile in Belle's voice and a lump of words he didn't dare to say formed in his throat.

Belle's hand crept up to his collar and one of her fingers brushed gently against his skin, sending shivers down his spine. His cock twitched and he was glad the lights were switched off, so she couldn't see the tent he was building. His fingernails dug painfully in his palms. 

“You'd be a great father,” she said. “One thing though.”

He cleared his throat. “Yes?” 

“Do you always keep a fresh suit in your shop?”

He frowned. “Yes.” What kind of question was this?

“Figures,” she said dryly. What kind of _statement_ was that?

“Because I'm the second suit kinda guy?”

“Because you're always prepared,” she explained softly. Her hand ran over his throat, then her fingers traced the line of his chin.

He wasn't prepared for this. She sighed. There was movement and then her hair brushed against his face, before her head settled down on his shoulder. Her left hand played with his hair while the fingers of her right explored his face, his cheeks, his nose, the seam of his lips. He squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath. Was she trying to kill him? He was painfully hard now, almost hurting with the physical longing to be with her. He wasn't prepared for this at all. 

“Why didn't you kiss me Wednesday?” she whispered in his ear. This was torture. She was everywhere and he longed to kiss her more than he longed for his next breath. He exhaled slowly, trying to calm himself.

On Wednesday he had wanted to talk to Moe about the money but he had only found Belle in the shop. She had poured him a cup of tea wile she had told him about the book she was currently reading and then the tea had spilled out the cup and on his lap and she had been embarrassed and had touched him and then they had looked into each others eyes. And then he had left. “Because I'm your landlord,” he said, “It would've been an abuse of power.”

“Instead you asked me to stay with you over night?”

“So I'm a hypocrite,” he said.

She moved closer again until her body lay next to his. He could feel the weight of her breasts. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, kiss her, touch her and breathe her in completely. His cock twitched and she was cuddling with him like he was a puppy. She had no idea what she did to him, she would probably jump out the bed and leave if she knew. He loved her so much. And he had no idea why she was doing any of this. The only thing he knew was that it felt too good to be true. Then she kissed his collar bone.

“Aren't you tired of punishing yourself?” she asked.

Because he deserved it? He had to clear his throat before he could answer with a lie, “I'm not punishing myself.” His fingernails dug even deeper into his skin.

“You wanted me to slap you when you asked me about to night.” She cradled his face in her palms wile her thumbs stroked over his cheeks. “I won't harm you,” she added. Her voice was soft, her words like a promise made to something innocent.

He felt like fleeing. He felt like giving in. He wanted to beg for mercy, he wanted to profess his love. “What do you want from me, Belle?” he asked coldly. He'd give her anything.

In the dark, she pressed another kiss against his throat. “I love you.”

He would give both legs for it to be true. “Don't make fun of me.”

She pulled her hands away and he felt like rolling into a ball. She moved and he felt her bending over him again, then the lamp on his nightstand lit up and he squeezed his eyes shut. He pulled up his knees to gather more fabric in his lap to hide his erection from the exposing light. This was humiliating. This was hell. She took his right hand and raised it, he could feel her lips pressing against the back of his hand, kissing each knuckle.

“Noah, look at me,” she demanded softly.

His stomach clenched and his heart … Maybe this would hurt less if she would rip it out. He wished this night would be over. She arranged his arm around her. He felt her moving on the bed again, slipping in the niche between his upper body and his arm she just created. He felt soft curls of hair brush against his face and opened his eyes slowly. She was leaning above him, supporting herself with her right hand pressed into the mattress next to his shoulders. With her left hand, she was holding her long curls out of their faces.

“I love you,” she said.

Pressing his lips together, he shook his head.

She sighed. “You don't believe me.”

“No.” She couldn't love him, nobody could.

Slowly she bent down and her lips touched his, gently pressing against his mouth. She shifted until her upper body lay above him, her breasts pressed against his chest. Her arms framed his face, both of her hands played with his hair while her lips moved against his.

His hands touched her shoulder blades, feeling them shifting as she moved above him, struggling to pull the blanket away from their bodies until it fell of the bed. He had no memory of moving his arms, but he clearly must have. He was going insane. His eyes fell shut and he groaned. 

She sucked in his lower lip, then ran her tongue over it, before she trailed little kisses from the corner of his mouth, over his check, his chin line to his ear.

“I love you,” she repeated and nipped on his earlobe. “I love you so much.” 

“Belle,” he breathed out.

She kissed his ear and ran her tongue over its shell. She pressed closer against his body, like she was trying to climb under his skin. Her mouth returned to his and she nibbled on his lower lip again. When he gasped, he slipped the tip her tongue into his mouth. Her sweet taste almost overwhelmed him. She gently stroked her tongue over his, before she pulled back to nibble at his upper lip.

“Please,” she whispered, “please let me love you.”

His legs gave out, good thing he was lying down already. One of Belle's legs moved over his body, she moved her hips and suddenly she straddled him, her calves pressed against his sides, her upper body resting on his. Her center pressed against his throbbing erection and granting him some friction. His hand glided from her shoulders over the sides of her breasts down to her waist. Weak as he had always been, he couldn't resist her.

Whimpering, he bucked his hips up against her, causing her lips to twist into a smile, before she pressed them against his gently. He opened his mouth for her and her tongue slipped in, playing with his. He was all wrapped up in her, her scent, her taste, her body. This must be what heaven felt like. He could almost believe her. Right now he didn't care much for the truth, all he knew was that she was willing, wanting to give him tonight and he couldn't refuse.

She sat up and grabbed the hem of her chemise. He let go of her waist as she pulled at the fabric and ran his hands over her smooth thighs. After she pulled the chemise over her head, she dropped it and ruffled her curls, smiling shyly at him. He could only stare at her in wonder, drinking in her sight. She was exquisite, rounded, perky breasts with puckered nipples he longed to suck, a tiny belly button he wanted to dip his tongue into and soft, creamy skin everywhere. Tiny lace panties, held together with two tiny satin bows at the sides of her hips was all that she was wearing now.

His mouth opened and closed twice but no noise came out.

Her smile intensified. “I feel beautiful when you look at me like that.”

“You are beautiful,” he managed to say. Truer words never were spoken. Then he swallowed hard, remembering who he was. “We can stop this here,” he said while his thumbs brushed over the skin of her thighs. “Nothing else has to happen. I can drive you home.” Saying that lifted a weight from his heart. She had given him everything he could ever ask for, more than he was worth.

She cradled his face again with both hands and shook her head slightly, before she bent down and kissed his forehead, his eyebrows, his eyelids. cheek bones, the rim of his nose, his lips.

“Don't send me away,” she whispered, “I love you.” 

She kissed him again, gentle, sweet, slow. He sighed and their tongues danced with each other while he wrapped his arms around her naked body. He gasped when she started rubbing her hips against his erection, reminding him of how much he wanted her. He wanted to sink into her, to melt with her, become one.

Then she sat up again and he missed the warmth of her body, the weight of her breasts on his chest. Her lower lip drawn between her teeth, she unbuttoned his pajama shirt, the expression on her face so focused, it was adorable. Lovingly he brushed a loose curl behind her ear and she tilted her head to lean _into_ his touch without hesitation. That meant more to him than her earlier confessions. Words could lie, but such spontaneous behavior like that? Hard to fake. His eyes started burning. Belle French might love him.

With a satisfied smirk, Belle pulled apart the sides of his shirt, exposing his chest, but stopped when she noticed a tear running down his cheek.

“What's wrong?” she asked concerned, stroking away the tear with her thumb.

He shook his head.

She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his collar bone while she ran her hands over his bare chest. “Tell me, love.”

“You love me,” he uttered.

She smiled and kissed his throat. “I do.” She licked his skin and he shivered.

“I love you.” He couldn't hold the words back. “I love you, I love you …” As if he had to repeat them for all the times he had swallowed them down before. Hundred times, thousands.

Her mouth on his silenced him. Her hands held his face in place while she kissed him passionately, tongue, teeth, nibbling, licking, everything. She left him breathless.

“I'm on pill,” she panted, rubbing herself against his hard erection.

His eyebrows shot up. “What?”

She blushed. “Thought you should now.” 

She licked her lips, then she lifted her hips, before she pulled open both bows on her slip and threw the tiny piece of fabric out of the bed. And just like that, Belle was sitting completely naked in his lap. It was almost too much to take. 

And then she reached inside his pajama pants and pulled out his cock. His eyes widened. He hissed sharply, his fingers digging into the flesh of her thighs as he fought for control to keep himself from coming.

With her hand wrapped around his cock, she held still until he opened his eyes again. And there she was, strong, smart, kind Belle French, straddling him, shamelessly exposing her body to him in the dim light. She looked so sexy, her breasts swollen, with puckered nipples, her legs spread, with her pussy hovering closely over his cock she still held in her hand. Now she caressed him, slowly moved her hand up and down his cock and he groaned. She smiled. He could see her juices dripping down her pussy, he would love to taste her. 

He looked into her beautiful eyes.

“I love you,” she said.

Then, with their gazes locked, she licked her lips and smiled while she aligned his cock with the entrance of her dripping sex. Slowly, ever so slowly she sank down on him while he ran his hands up and down her thighs. He wanted her so much, needed her badly, and yet if felt like they had all the time in the world for this. Feeling her tight body around his cock was delicious. She was hot and wet and tight, so fucking beautiful, everything. His hands moved from her thighs to her ass. He gently massaged her flesh, careful not to grip her to roughly.

When he was fully inside of her, she bent down and pressed her lips against his, before she sucked on his bottom lip. Then she straightened up again, pressing her open palms against his chest, and started moving, setting a gentle pace, allowing him to go deep. He held still, it almost killed him not to buck up into her tight heat, but he wanted her to be in control. He wanted her to know that he was hers to take and he wanted her to take him. For so long nobody had wanted to be with him, let alone love him and it felt like coming home to give himself to Belle.

He felt almost desperate, his desire building up quickly, yet he was at peace. Belle loved him. She was making love to him, making soft little noises that drove him insane. He loved seeing the pleasure on her face, he wanted to see more of it. So he sneaked a hand between her legs. She gasped when he first touched her clit. He rubbed her softly, watching in awe as she threw her head back in delight. 

She quickened her pace, riding him hard and fast, moaning his name, before she came apart. Feeling her orgasm sent him over the edge, he bucked up his hips, unable to keep himself still any longer, as he spilled his seed inside her.

She collapsed on him, he loved that too. He loved that she didn't get off him right away, he loved that she trusted him to hold her. They breathed together and she brushed her sweaty hair out of her face, as he wrapped his arms around her body, his hands soothing her back. She kissed his chest, his throat, every part of him she could reach by moving just her head. Their skins cooled, she was getting chills.

“Blanket,” she mumbled, before she moved away and climbed out of the bed.

He missed her every second their bodies didn't touch. It felt like an eternity until she returned and covered them both with the blanket.

He fell asleep in her arms.

o0o

  
  


When he woke up, the bed was empty, but Belle's scent still lingered. He could hear her roaming downstairs and couldn't suppress a smile. He felt light. Happy. Like nothing could hurt. Belle had said she loved him. Belle had made love to him. For now he managed to ignore the voices of reason and doubt inside his head. She had held her end of the bargain, it was morning and she was free to leave, but instead she was in his kitchen. Today could be good. Eager to be with her, he slipped into his pajama again.

He hobbled into the bathroom and brushed his teeth, before he made his way downstairs.

He found Belle in the kitchen, arranging two cups and a tea pot on a tray at the counter top. She turned around when he entered. The sounds of his cane on the floor must've given him away. Not that he minded. Especially since her eyes brightened as soon as she saw him.

“I made tea,” she said smiling, then she shrugged her shoulders. “I hope that's okay.” She blushed, it was adorable.

“You're still here.”

“Yes. Do you have anything to eat?”

He opened the fridge. “If you can keep yourself from chewing on my furniture a little longer, I can make you pancakes,” he said after he assessed the in-life of his fridge. Milk, eggs, everything he needed. He just had to add some flour and sugar, some cinnamon for flavor

She walked up to him and wrapped her arms from him from behind. “I love pancakes.”

He chuckled. “I know.”

“I set the plates,” she said and nuzzled his neck.

“Could you prepare the raspberries as well?”

“You have raspberries?” Her hands moved over his chest and he shivered.

Gosh, she was turning him on. “You love raspberries,” he said and placed a bowl of raspberries on the counter.

“I do.” 

He heard the smile in her voice. He cleared his throat. “Belle, if you don't stop that you will be breakfast and I will have you right here on the kitchen table.”

Giggling, she tiptoed and nipped at his earlobe. “You'll have me on the table after I had pancakes.”

His cock twitched against his pants. “Is that so?”

She kissed his throat and pressed her body against his back. “I can foresee the future, didn't you know?”

“You're silly.”

“I'm happy.”

He was happy too. Today could be brilliant. She kissed his shoulder, before she let him go and walked over to the next counter, where he kept the dishes. she took out two plates and placed them on the tray, that she then carried to the table.

Meanwhile he took the milk and the eggs out of the fridge as well as the other ingredients from another counter. They worked together and she hummed a tune he didn't know. Today could be fantastic.

“Noah,” Belle said after a while. He could hear hesitation in her voice. “About the money …” she continued.

He froze in his movements. He had known this would come, he had known this had been to good to be true. He just had hoped he would have this morning with her.

She took a breath. “I told my father he had till end of march month to repay his debt to you,” she said quickly.

“What?” He turned around, he just had to see her face. He must've misheard.

She was leaning against the table, her chin lifted and one of her eyebrows slightly raised. “My father will pay his debt,” she said, slower this time, “I won't argue about it.”

He felt light as air, dizzy almost. “But why?” he uttered, his knees threatened to give out from under him.

“I don't want you to doubt my love for you,” she said sternly, as if she expected him to argue that. Not that he would dare to, not when she looked as determinate as she did right now. 

He swallowed hard, nodded. “Okay.” 

She came up to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. “You don't have to buy my love,” she added in a softer tone. “It's already yours.”

Unable to reply, he just nodded again.

She tiptoed then her lips moved gently over his lips. Then she trailed kisses from the corner of his mouth to his ear.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you.” His voice was heavy with emption.

She nibbled at his earlobe as she pressed her body against his.

“Noah?”

She felt so good. “Hm?”

“Pancakes might have to wait after all,” she said.

Smiling broadly, he wrapped his arms around her. Belle loved him.

Things without price tags couldn't be bought, but they could be received.

THE END


End file.
